Death on four wheels
by RE Vegeta
Summary: Spectre's brother Gambit was killed in the tournament ten years ago, after many years of training and building,he wants to wish him back.To get his revenge on Darktooth.R&R Please.Don't own TW!
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1  
  
Ten years ago at the tenth Twisted Metal competition.  
  
The large speakers over the streets blared, and music filled his ears as he drove through the dark streets. His partner and brother Gambit was up ahead, and Spectre lit a cigarette in frustration. In Neon City the Twisted Metal Tournament was usually rocking, as well as exploding. Maybe it's because of this lame music they play, he thought. As if on cue, Gambit spoke up, "Ya' know, I kinda like dis music no?" Spectre smiled, then checked his radar. After killing Outlaw and Twister, the radar had been blank. Gambit could hear the silence, and Spectre took a long drag of his cigarette. "Found any'ting yet mon ami?" Gambit asked. Spectre took off his sunglasses, squinting at the new arrival's dot.  
  
"Yeah, it's Darktooth!" he shouted in horror. No way, he thought. I'm not ready for Darktooth!  
  
"Man, this screws every'ting up, de plan was not to fight wit Darktooth!" Gambit panicked. "Ok, we switch to plan B."  
  
Spectre gasped, " what's plan B?"  
  
"Make a new plan bro!"  
  
Spectre sped off and approached the blinking black dot. "Hey buddy, where are you?"  
  
Gambit shouted into his com, "I am on de roof, entering de east tunnel. Clown face is right on my butt man! Spectre, I can't shake him!"  
  
Spectre gaped, Darktooth couldn't be that good. To be able to outrun Gambit's Viper! He clenched his fist in anger and pounded the dashboard. "Hold on buddy, I'm coming." The Trench coat Brothers would not be beaten by some circus freak! Spectre carelessly threw his cigarette butt out of his window and into the smoking remains of Outlaw. He sped off as the gasoline caught fire and exploded.  
  
The blue Viper entered the West tunnel and made it's way up in mere seconds, and there at the opening of the tunnel was Darktooth. He was grinning like mad, his vehicle behind him, engine ticking. "Glad you could come Spectre, it's such an honor to meet the second best fighter." At this he doubled over with laughter as he pulled out a pistol. It was extremely long, and it gleamed bright pink under all of the neon signs. Spectre's mind was spinning, where was Gambit? He looked around and grinned.  
  
Gambit's Viper was at the bus stop waiting to be picked up. You're out of your league Darktooth, as soon as my bro gets the lightning up there. "You're toast," Spectre chuckled at his joke.  
  
Darktooth frowned, which was hard to read because of the black smiley face painted on his skin. He giggled again, a madman for sure. He aimed the pistol at Spectre and smiled a big toothy smile. "Toast, very good. Except I'm not bread, but would you like me to be?" He started to skip backwards towards his car. "I could always wish to be bread ya' know, after I win." His eyes sparkled with joy. "That would be fun, then into the toaster I'd go, it'd be quite hot in there. Like hell even."  
  
Spectre gaped, " You're insane." He shook his head and took out a cigarette. "Welp, here comes your toast," he said lighting the nicotine stick. He pulled in a great amount of smoke and prepared for the show. But there was no lightning, no mortars, nothing. He checked to see if The viper made it up, and sure enough it was up there. But it hasn't moved since Spectre frowned. He cautiously stepped out of his car and stood facing the maniac.  
  
Gambit's got to be up to something! "Got to hell," someone coughed from behind Darktooth. Spectre stepped back in horror as Darktooth pulled Gambit out from behind him and put the gun to his head.  
  
"This game's fun isn't it," Darktooth smiled happily, like a boy unwrapping a christmas present. The cameras zoomed in to record Spectre's shocked face, and he stepped forward with his fists raised. "Ah, ah, ah," I wouldn't do that if I were you," the clown chimed. Then his face took a serious tone. "Let me tell you a secret, hmmm." He holstered the gun and threw back his brother. "When I was eight, I killed my first human. It was at a bank heist, and me and my friends stood outside the doors of the bank in awe. We were watching the robbery inside, and the theifs were about to get away when a squad car pulled up and an officer got out, yelling inside for the men to put their hands up. They walked out of the doors and shot the cop, Piggy went down." He giggled at his own joke and stamped his feet in glee. "The robbers got away, and I was left with a dying cop reaching his twitching fingers to me."  
  
"Please, little boy, get my radio. An ambulance." He was sooo pathetic. As my friend Calypso took his gun, I kicked his face in!" He died in instants, and I wiped my shoe off in disgust." He pulled out the gun again, aiming at Gambit. "I have killed many times in my life, and I won't hesitate to do it again, but I think you have talent. To be able to get past Minion and Mr. Grimm is very commendable. If you forfeit now, you and your brother live." This guy is serious, man we're in trouble!  
  
Spectre hopped in his car quickly and armed his machine guns, taking the risk. "Fool," Darktooth grinned evilly as the pistol fired, Gambit's limp body sprawling to the ground.  
  
"Gambit!" he screamed as Darktooth fired through his windshield and into his chest. He slumped over, blood dripping from his mouth. "No," he gasped, sucking in air. Darktooth meanwhile, pulled out of the tunnel, crushing Spectre's brother, and laughing all the while. He disappeared humming and cackling as the audience cheered. The last thing Spectre saw before he blacked out was his brother lying in a pool of his own blood. That image would haunt him forever.  
  
Someday, he thought as his eyes shutting against his will. Darktooth is mine, and Spectre's head slammed into the steering wheel, blood pouring over brown leather. The Twisted Metal medics ran out and put him on a stretcher. He would not wake up for a long while, a long time would pass before he could revenge on the psychopathic clown. And still the music played on.  
  
He would seek his revenge in the most famous battle ever, the same his brother lost his life in. Held annually, drivers from around the world come to get one wish, anything they desire. Some wish for fame and glory, some dead loved ones or relatives. But first, they must battle, and get through.  
  
TWISTED METAL! 


	2. Two madmen and a plan

Chapter 2  
(Location: mental asylum somewhere off the coast of Maine.)  
  
The guard had just gotten his break, and he had also just happily won a date with the most beautiful woman in the whole facility. On Saturday night he'd be dining at a fancy restaurant with Margaret Lowes, the secretary on the main floor. That is, if I can survive the day, the guard thought as he shook his head in disbelief.  
  
The man in front of him was wearing a long brown trench coat and a murderous look in his eye as if he dared the guard to contradict him again.  
  
But the guard stood his ground despite his terror and repeated, " Authorized personnel only." He shook his head again; this guy must be crazy if he wants to go in there. He chanced a quick look over to the door to cell 313 and wondered if this was all just a horrible dream.  
  
The man in the coat laughed, stepping out of the way to reveal the bodies of two other security guards, both unconsciesce or worse. The guard's whole being shivered as he watched a pool of blood ooze from the nearest guard. "That's all the authorization you're gonna need bub, now open the door.  
  
The man quickly punched in the thirteen-digit access code and stepped aside to allow Spectre into the cell. "You might want to."  
  
"Shut it!", Spectre snapped and walked into the inmate's cell.  
  
Location: (The Mini Mart down on Wood Rd., L.A.)  
  
Sweet Tooth kicked the locked freezer and the muffled thumps stopped at once. Absently running a hand over his flaming head, he cursed as his hand came away scorched. He giggled at the pain. It really didn't matter, his hands were stained with so much blood and dirt that a couple of burns weren't gonna make a big difference.  
  
He pulled his mask up and popped a Mr. Icy into his mouth and sat down in the driver's seat of his ice cream truck. Taking out a cigarette, he lit it with his head, rolling the end on his flaming brow. He took a long drag and turned on the radio.  
  
A reporter's voice urgently announced that another child was found dead, and three more were still missing. " We have eye witness reports given that the perpetrator is a white male, big, bald.sort of.and he drives an ice ."  
  
"Oops, wrong station," the burly man growled. He switched it to a rock station, and giggled in pure delight as Rob Zombie's Dragula came on. He fiddled with the lyrics and found that he was quite the songwriter.  
  
" Live through the lynchings and dig out of the prisons then back into the seat of my, ice cream truck!"  
  
(Back in Maine at the asylum)  
  
The guard slammed the door behind him, locking it tight. He gave a short prayer for the man; even a man who would kill two guards deserved one.  
  
The room was small and dark, but there was a single window in the shape of a cross, which was letting in a small ray of moonlight. In the far corner, away from the light was the figure of a man. He was muttering and holding his knees, rocking back and forth madly.  
  
Spectre's senses were going haywire, and this room and it's blue light were starting to get to him. What was that sensation he was feeling, excitement, anticipation, or maybe just fear.  
  
"Mr. Jones?," he called.  
  
The figure flinched, " Can't believe it, couldn't fight it, no, Benny, Benny." He stopped then and started to stand, he grinned underneath his mask, a cold, heartless, merciless grin. He walked forward, his massive head and shoulders entering the light. Out of the shadows came a dead man, a tall monster of a being with glinting eyes staring at Spectre from underneath a skull mask. Stitches ran down it's front, and the right jaw drooped down from the rest of the skull.  
  
Spectre couldn't tell for sure, but the mask seemed genuine. "Good god!," Spectre stumbled back  
  
The man finally spoke to him. "Is he? How good is he? Every man should ask themselves that at some point in their life." He started to approach Spectre, getting closer and closer. "Ya' know, who knows huh?" He got so close to Spectre that he could smell the freak's breath.  
  
"Well, maybe I was mistaken," Spectre fumbled, lying through his teeth. He himself was a Christian, but he'd do anything to get the psycho away from him.  
  
The masked man stepped away, delighted at the fear that was registering off Spectre. He was practically shaking out of his shoes. "The names Grimm anyway, Mr. Grimm. Not Jones."  
  
" My names Lance Wylder, but my brother always called me Spectre."  
  
Mr. Grimm chuckled, "Small world."  
  
"What do you mean?", Spectre asked.  
  
"You were in the Twisted Metal tournament a few years back, you and your brother, driving in those vipers. Your bro was scrapped by Darktooth right?"  
  
Spectre clenched his fists at his sides, "Yeah, but Darktooth broke the rules. Just because you and me were both in the tournament doesn't mean that's some big coincidence. I'm here on business, and I have a proposal for you Grimm."  
  
Grimm put up his hands, "Hey sorry man, I'll hear you out, so what do you want with me Mr. Wylder?"  
(Back in the Mini Mart parking lot)  
  
Sweet Tooth looked around nervously, his cigarette clenched between his teeth. Where in the hell was his partner!? From the back of the Frosty Treat Delivery truck came another series of pounding.  
  
"Does that kid ever shut up?" Goggle eyes said, hopping into the truck with an armful of food.  
  
"Don't know," Sweet Tooth said with Popsicle juice running down his face. "What have ya' got?"  
  
Goggle eyes frowned, pointing a bony finger at the flaming clown. "How do you eat a Popsicle and smoke a cig at the same time dude?" Another loud pounding sound erupted from the freezer and Sweet Tooth tossed his Popsicle stick at it.  
  
"I'm talented, now let's . OOOohh!" he said chuckling. " Funyuns! I love Funyuns!" Goggle eyes watched him double over with hysterical laughter at something that clearly wasn't funny at all, but he joined in anyway or it could be him that Sweet Tooth worked his talents on next,  
  
(The asylum)  
  
Spectre began, "I know that Calypso has screwed you over before, a couple of years back he tricked you right?"  
  
Mr. Grimm shook with rage. "He promised me revenge, and I got it. Oh yeah I got it, but then Calypso threw me back in this hole. Just like the guy with the gold tooth, the guy that made me do that horrible thing to Benny."  
  
Mr. Grimm Started to pace in fury, " I was so hungry, Benny, oh god. Calypso is a dead man!"  
  
Spectre slid the last piece of his plan into part, " But you're trapped in here, aren't you?"  
  
Grimm nodded in tears, rocking back and forth again. Spectre crouched in front of him.  
  
" Grimm, look at me? Would you do anything to get back at him?" Grimm nodded swiftly. "Then I need a favor, and I promise I can get you Calypso, after that you'll be a free man. I need you to help me kill Sweet Tooth."  
  
(Sweet Tooth and Goggle eyes in the ice cream truck)  
  
What a great working relationship, goggle eyes thought with a sigh. When Sweet Tooth had finished laughing, Goggle eyes asked the question he'd been wondering ever since they took the first kid. "So how much ransom are we asking for?"  
  
The clown slid his mask into place and sang, "A whole lot of money, a whole lot of money. Give me cash, or I'll kick your ."  
  
" So when will we mail the demands?" Goggle eyes asked.  
  
" Oh-maybe-Friday!" Sweet Tooth gasped as he fell into another bout of laughter. Goggle eyes only held his head in his hands and wondered for the billionth time how he got hooked up with the madman sitting next to him.  
  
(Asylum)  
  
"You see," Spectre grinned. " We'll d help each other out to get revenge on the ones we hate. Together we'd be unstoppable, and technology is way more advanced than it was when you got locked away in here."  
  
Grimm chuckled, " Again small world. I once ran into this guy competing in the tournament alongside me in the New York suburbs. He was driving this pink lowrider, and he had his bass up real loud, that's how I spotted him. Something told me not to destroy him, maybe fate I see now, but when I talked to him he said the same thing. I've got the damn clown on my radar and all the sudden I hear bass and he calls out, "Yo, seen a clown round here son?" How do you like that? So turns out he's been hunting down this clown for four years; the freak killed his mom or something like that. He grew up, the poor kid, in the streets of L.A., so he can't even afford a radar. I tell him yeah and we agree to hunt him down together. We were practically allies, being after the same guy I mean."  
  
Grimm looked at him, " I'll help you, but you have to get him.He should be in Tokyo doing police work His real name is Bruce Cochrane, goes by the street name of Thumper. Go get him and come back here and bust me out."  
  
Spectre, all this coming so fast quickly wrote down the name on a pad of paper. He nodded at Grimm and started to walk away, but Grimm called him back.  
  
"This is gonna work right?" Mr. Grimm asked.  
  
Spectre grinned, "yeah, it'll work." He had his hand on the doorknob and he was just about to leave when Grimm said one last thing, loud and clear.  
  
" If you screw with me Spectre, I'll kill you, I swear it."  
  
On his way out Spectre felt more relieved than he ever had in his whole life.  
  
(Back in L.A.)  
  
Sweet Tooth stopped laughing abruptly and settled into his chair. He lit a cigarette and smoked it down in one enormous drag. Exhaling harshly, he suddenly emitted a loud strong burp. Goggle Eyes unfortunately knew what was coming next, and sure enough, Sweet Tooth drove the ice cream truck out of the parking lot brimming with tars from laughing so much.  
  
But as the ice cream truck drove away, a bright pair of lights flashed on close behind it, and a pink low rider followed the truck silently, except for the unmistakable sound of a bass system quietly counting the rhythm of every day life. 


End file.
